Longings of the Heart
by sunset20
Summary: I need to drown in you to be able to breathe... HarryDRaco slash
1. Chapter 1

**A****/N: This is the first of four chapters. **

**BTW, this is Draco's POV so be warned, he's going to be the emotional and open one, which is a bit weird, but it had to be him, because A) I couldn't imagine doing to him what I'm planning to do to Harry :) and B) that stupid Gryffindor can be really annoying sometimes, Draco is much more fun to write about :)  
**

**Chapter 1: I love you**

_"No! Don't… Please don't go! Please… Don't leave me! Oh, God don't let him go!... Please…"_ my mind screams but the pleading words never reach my lips. The door slams and you're gone.

I'm sitting on the edge of the large, empty bed with tears running down my cheeks – I don't even fight them anymore. I'm still naked and start shivering in the cold hotel room but I refuse to put my clothes back on. I can't even bring myself to look at the crumpled piles all over the floor, they would just make me remember how you rushed into the room just half an hour ago, already all over me even before you closed the door behind you; how your impatient fingers almost ripped my shirt in the hurry to remove it; how you kissed me with such raw lust that it almost scared me.

I don't want to remember but I can't stop the memories that come back to my mind. I can almost feel the touch of your calloused hands on my skin, your soft lips on that hidden spot just behind my ear that only you know about. I remember your hand gliding down along my side and remember feeling your lips breaking into a teasing smirk – you had learned that from me – at the broken whimper that escapes me when you finally close your strong fingers around my aching hardness.

And I remember screwing it all up by letting sacred words I thought I had drowned long ago be born on my trembling lips. 

"Oh, God, Harry… I love you"

I should have said something. I should have taken it back or convinced you that it wouldn't change anything. But I couldn't bring myself to lie to you again now that the truth I have been trying to hide for so long escaped me. 

So I just watched you leave the hotel room that has over the last year become all the home I had. This small room was what I called home, not the cold, impersonal flat I had bought when selling Malfoy Manor shortly after my mother's suicide. This was home because I have shared it with you even if it was only for some careless hours of mind-blowing sex. For you it was just that – sex. But for me it was so much more. All that made my life bearable after losing family, friends and status, all that was worth living for, was in this room – with you. But I ruined everything by wanting too much.

You're gone, and now I have nothing left to live for.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So here I am with the next chapter! Thank you all for the reviews!  
**

**Chapter 2: As if…**

Next day I see you at work. You look through me as if I didn't exist. You have no idea how true that is. I've been dead for years. 

Dead, in a huge house with a tyrannical father, who pretended to be above everything and everybody but was in reality nothing more than a slave to his own fear and power-greed, and with a mother who was slowly suffocating under the terror of her ruthless, unloving husband. I already felt hollow and hopeless before I really began to live.

The only times I felt at least a tiny sparkle of life in me was during our many fights at Hogwarts and later when I felt you deep inside of me in the rented hotel room.

I don't even know when my hatred turned into love, but I clearly remember the moment I first realized how much you meant to me. It was about two years ago, at the night of the final battle against Voldemort.

_I'm lying on the cold ground of the dark graveyard, both physically and mentally exhausted and broken after the long hours of throwing and shielding curses. I know I'm on the verge of passing out, but the sudden deadly silence makes me fight for consciousness._

It is time.

The-Boy-Who-Lived is finally face to face with the Dark Lord.

The fate of the whole world would be decided now.

But as you raise your wand, I cannot bring myself to care about the world. I'm scared. It scares me how much I'm affected by the thought of losing you. I'm more afraid then during the long months of spying for Dumbledore or just a few minutes ago when I had to kill the man who called himself my father.

Something I've never felt before stirs in me. Something I have been taught to regard as weakness – but now I know it's strength. Something I've never even hoped to be able to experience. Something I never want to lose again.

I try to raise my wand to help you by at least casting a protection spell to shield you from the curses of the remaining Death Eaters, who are still fighting fiercely against the members of the Order, but seem to be getting more and more impatient about somehow helping their Lord. But a pained cry – that for a short moment distracts you and draws your attention to me – escapes my lips as I try to move my broken arm.

And then suddenly I see you glowing and a bright ray of light emerges from your chest. It slowly spreads and then disappears into Voldemort, making him glow as well for some seconds before he simply fades away without even having time to cry out in surprise. I can hear his wand loudly dropping on the ground.

The last thing I remember before darkness claims me is you taking me into your strong arms with concern written on your exhausted face.

I woke up three days later in St. Mungo's. You were asleep in the uncomfortable chair beside my bed. A nurse told me later that you had never left my bedside in three days, and it gave me hope. But as soon as you saw I was awake and better, you left and didn't visit again.

The next time we met was on our first day at the Ministry as Aurors. You were distant, cold and overly polite. Your behaviour hasn't changed since then. Not even after our first time together at the end of a drunken night with the Weasley twins and Seamus. For you it was a mistake – for me it was heaven. But it happened again, more and more often. For you it was just fucking – for me it was what kept me alive.

We usually met in the small hotel in muggle London because you didn't want anybody to know about us. I didn't really care as long as you came. I was always the first to arrive and you were the first to leave. We never spoke. The very first words the cold room had ever heard between us, were those spoken last night in that fateful moment of passion when I told you I loved you.

I slowly raise my eyes at you. You're sitting behind the desk opposite to mine and seem to be working on a report. I know you can feel me staring at you but you choose to ignore it. Your indifference hurts me more than your anger would. But maybe you're right. Maybe I deserve being treated like that. Maybe this is how I have to pay for whatever mistakes you think I've made in the past. I know I'm unworthy of your love, but that can't change my feelings for you.

People start to notice that something is wrong and ask if I'm all right, but I don't even care to answer just continue staring at you until you finally stand up and without even looking at me say:

"I have to speak to you Malfoy."

The way you use my family name always makes me shudder. You never stopped calling me that, not even during making lo-… fucking. I slowly follow you to one of the empty offices and carefully close the door behind us.

"What the fuck is wrong with you Malfoy?" you hiss behind clenched teeth. "What the hell were you thinking? Staring at me as if I had broken up with you!"

"As if…" I only manage to whisper as hope flares in my heart again. Maybe…

"Well you can't really break up with someone you never had a relationship with." you snort, throwing the last year of my life down the drain, just like that. I can feel my heart breaking into a million little pieces in front of you. They materialize as bitter tears and I don't even have the strength to care.

"Don't tell me you really thought it was more that just fucking!"

Can't you see how much you hurt me? I wish I could come up with some witty response and deny the evident truth but finally saying those three little words must have left me unable to hide from you. I can't do anything but stare into your hard eyes.

I suddenly realize how close you are, and can't breathe. All I want is to pull you even closer and get lost in the deep ocean of your eyes. But I know I can't.

And then suddenly you capture my lips in a passionate, hungry kiss, but as I overcome my momentary shock and eagerly respond to the violent invasion, you break away and leave me behind utterly confused and panting breathlessly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: But...**

_Why am I doing this to myself? Why can't I just let go of you?_ I snort. I know the answer just too well. You are the sun that melts my frozen world, you are the solid rock I can cling to when I'm weak, you are my water and air, I need to drown in you to be able to breath. That's why I'm sitting in our usual hotel room again, waiting for you.

It has been over three months since that fateful night. We have met here several times since then, but you never brought the subject up again, nor did we discuss what happened later in the office. It's the same every time: I arrive an hour early, when you come you take me with such ferocity that it rips my soul apart – but I wouldn't want it any other way, I need to feel that it's real – and when it's over you go without as much as a goodbye, leaving me alone with the emptiness within.

Today would be no different. It tears me apart but I can't give you up, even if this is slowly killing me.

I hear you knock on the door and I get up to let you in. Without a word you hastily claim my lips and slam the door behind you. You never end the soft invasion of my mouth as you lead me into the bedroom, your fingers fumbling impatiently with our clothes. You toss me almost violently on the bed and look at me with the predatory look of a wild animal as you roughly capture my parted lips again. I feel the same impatience as you and buck my hips, urging you to take me already. But you suddenly slow down the pace of your sweetly torturous movements and seem to be savouring the feeling of me writhing under you.

That's when it hits me: _You're leaving._ You're leaving me for good that's why you want to memorize every tiny bit of my body with the painfully slow, teasing kisses of your sinful lips. I desperately try to think of something to make you stay with me, even if it's only like that – just fucking in a cheap muggle hotel.

I can feel you sliding inside of me carefully and try to burn even the slightest twitch of your body into my memory. How I wish I could stop the time. I wish I could make this moment last forever but as you start moving inside of me even this last thought is banished from my mind. You too are beyond coherent words now and just moan deeply. I don't want this to end so soon, but it takes only a few deep thrusts of your powerful hips to send me over the edge. We're screaming our tainted passion into the hot air as we climax together.

My senses slowly come back to me as the last waves of pleasure drown in the excruciating knowledge that this was probably the last time I felt complete. It takes me a while to realize that your strong fingers are dreamily stroking my hair. I hesitantly turn my head towards you and plunge into the bottomless ocean of your painful passion. We lie like that for what seems to be an eternity.

You don't say a word but your eyes betray you and give away your deepest feelings, which you have been trying to hide for God knows how long. I can hardly stop myself from crying out loud. _I was wrong! This is not the end! It can't be! It's just the beginning of something new and wonderful._ My heart is certain in this knowledge and not even my mind questions it.

"I love you" you whisper and I can't stop my face lighting up although I see that your features get a shade darker. My stupid Hufflepuff grin slowly melts away as I'm falling into your strained eyes. _There is a 'but'_ my heart whimpers. _There is __**always**__ a 'but'_ my mind states pretending indifference.

"But?" I can hardly hear my desperate voice.

"I'm getting married…"

**A/N: Yes, I know, I'm an evil witch, worse than Voldemort, but I had to end it like that! XD Any guesses how this will end? I bet you'll NEVER guess!!! evil laughter**


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you all for the reviews and for bearing with me through all these angsty feelings. I hope you won't kill me after reading this. :D 

Chapter 4: Memories

It hurt more than I could ever tell you. The moment you told me you'd be getting married, you killed the last remnants of life in me. You even had the guts to invite me to the wedding and I couldn't say no to the silent pleading in your emerald eyes.

So three weeks later I found myself at the Burrow, where everybody gathered before the wedding ceremony. I needed every last drop of Slytherin pretence to keep the empty smile on my face. At least I didn't have to fight any unwanted tears; I was too hollow to cry.

And then you introduced her to me, the woman who would be your wife in less than an hour. Her name was Freya and she really did her name justice. She was breathtakingly beautiful with her long blond hair and dark grey eyes, but what made her irresistible was some inner magic that I couldn't quite explain. She was the daughter of a powerful witch and a muggle painter, and had just finished Hogwarts with astonishingly good results that even topped those of Hermione from two years earlier.

I wasn't surprised that you chose her over me. She was smart as a Ravenclaw, tender and caring as a Hufflepuff, powerful and witty as a Slytherin, but also brave and loyal as a true Gryffindor. She was perfect. And the first moment I saw her at the Burrow, I knew that she was the only person who could make you happy. I could tell she knew about us – was there ever an us? – but she was genuinely happy to get to know me.

I couldn't stand the excruciating honesty of her kindness, so I left very soon without even saying goodbye. I never visited you and successfully avoided your attempts of seeing me. I started drinking and had a different cock up my arse every night. I know you both tried to help me, but I wouldn't let you stop me from sliding down the slope.

And then I met Taylor. It was about three years after your marriage with Freya. I was at my worst at that time. I had lost my job at the Ministry and even managed to chase away my last friends. All I did was getting drunk, fucking faceless guys and then getting drunk again even before I got over last night's hangover.

I remember waking up one morning with a horrible headache and the even more painful knowledge that I couldn't go on like this anymore. I was about to kill myself and was convinced that nothing and no one could make me change my mind.

That's when I realized that I was lying in an unfamiliar bed, which was very strange considering that normally I got fucked in an alley or the shabby motel where I was living at that time. My eyes slowly wandered across the tidy and… homely room and settled on a tall, handsome man who was leaning against the doorframe. He was watching my confused expression with amusement.

"I'm glad you finally woke up. I was afraid I would have to tickle you awake. Breakfast?" 

That was Taylor, always cheerful and positive about even the worst things. Apparently I had made a complete fool out of myself at a muggle bar the evening before, when I had thrown myself at everybody who at least remotely looked like in possession of a cock – my black eye was the result of a rather embarrassing misunderstanding – just to finally pass out in the middle of the dance floor. Taylor had brought me to his flat and had let me sleep in his bed without even touching me.

He was a muggle history teacher, but knew a lot about magic from his little sister who was in her 6th year at Hogwarts. He told me how he always read her books in the summer and even helped her preparing for her History of Magic exams. And when he told me about his first encounter with Ton Tongue Toffees I was laughing loudly for the fist time in years. His broad smile made me feel completely at ease and I found myself telling him about my family, the war and even you.

We slowly became a couple. He knew I still loved you, but never complained and was happy with what I was willing to give. He let me cry on his shoulder whenever I needed it, he helped me to give up drinking and to get hold of my fucked up life again. And he was the one who convinced me to finally visit you and your family.

_I'm still not sure it was a good idea to come here and tear open the wounds that have just started to heal, but Taylor always seems to find the right words to convince me that he knows better – I must admit he does most of the times._

So here I am sitting on your living room floor, playing with your oldest daughter, Andrea, while you and Taylor try to get the twins, Dom and Riley to bed, which proves to be a fruitless torture, since already at the age of 2 they are very much like Fred and George Weasley, which is a rather scary thought, I'm not sure the world can take four of the sort!

Freya is sitting in her huge armchair, tenderly stroking her big belly in which your next little girl is sleeping peacefully. She is desperately trying to maintain her stern exterior as she watches you and Taylor chasing those little devils through the house, but as Dom bites you in the finger and runs away laughing loudly, even she can't help chuckling.

I'm smiling too but the image of your happy family breaks my heart all over again. I know now why you gave up on our love. And I understand. I understand how much you needed to finally feel the warmth of a loving family after growing up the way you did. I understand, because I feel the same craving for love.

I don't blame you for following the longings of your heart, but it hurts not to be the one to give you what you've always wanted. One teardrop slowly rolls down my cheek. Just one, but Andrea immediately notices.

"Why are you crying?" she asks with all the affectionate curiosity of a three-year-old.

"It's nothing, Andrea. I'm not crying anymore. See?" I say wiping away the little traitor from my face and reassuringly smile at her. But she's a clever girl already and can easily see through me.

"Don't cry!" she says wrapping her short arms around the neck of a man she has only met some hours ago. "Don't cry Uncle Draco! I love you!"

I'm fighting with tears again as I return the embrace of this little girl, who doesn't even understand that hearing those feared words from the innocent lips that are so much like yours, I feel redeemed. I feel as if a terrible burden had been removed from my heart and after four years I can finally breathe again.

I look up and see you smiling at us from the door. For a moment I feel close to you again and your eyes tell me everything your lips have never been able to utter. They tell me how much you loved me all along, how it scared you to admit it and how this love was what made you strong enough to defeat Voldemort. They tell me that you're sorry for hurting me and for not explaining why you left me and married Freya. I understand now that you didn't choose her over me, but the life she could offer and I couldn't.

And I can see how your smile offers me something that was offered to you once, something that you've rejected – friendship. And over the shoulders of your little daughter I smile back at you. 

Three years have passed since our reunion and I find myself standing at the sea shore just a few minutes from your house again. It's only two days until Christmas and you asked Taylor and me to help with the preparations since Freya is not much of a help now that she's pregnant… AGAIN.

After Andrea, the twins, Mandy, Matt, Daphne and Dawn, this will be your 8th child, which means you'll beat the Weasley's – I'm sure that was your intention all along, no matter how much you try to deny it. Just imagine, a family with more children as Molly Weasley – the world will never be the same again.

Two strong arms slowly embrace me from behind and pull me out of my bittersweet reverie.

"Not having second thoughts I hope…" Taylor whispers in my ear, referring to the silver, engraved ring he gave me this morning – with an awfully stupid grin on his face that matched mine – after I have accepted his proposal.

"Memories." I explain as I lean into his embrace.

He understands. He understood from the very first moment how much you meant to me and never tried to replace you. He has been unbelievably patient with me in the last years and never even considered leaving me even though I was pining for you for years and never to this day said those three little words to him. I just couldn't.

"Taylor…" even now, 7 years after that horrible night in the muggle hotel room, I'm almost too afraid to say them. But his protective embrace calms me and gives me the strength I need. "I… love you…"

He wraps himself even closer around me and I can feel his overjoyed smile he's trying to hide in the crook of my neck. After waiting for so long for me to say this, he can't find the words to say it back, but the wild pounding of his heart tells me everything as it beats to the rhythm of my own heart. The heart that you have stolen such a long time ago without even noticing it, the heart Andrea returned to me three years ago, so that now I could give it to Taylor.

"Come on, Draco, dinner should be ready by now." Taylor says after reluctantly releasing me and kissing me tenderly. "But be careful with the soup. Andrea tried to blackmail Harry into promising that she could stay up late making Christmas presents with her favourite Uncle – that would be you. She threatened to poison the soup with some ugly potion that would make one sing Spice Girls songs for three days."

"Did Harry give in?" I manage to choke out between two laughing fits.

"Well, you know how much he hates being ordered around, so he just said he'll think about it. So if I were you, I wouldn't risk the soup."

I smile affectionately at the thought of the little girl who always seems to get what she wants, whether it's about visiting me at Hogwarts where I teach Potions now, or going on holiday with the _whole_ family, which in her little world includes Taylor and me as well.

"Harry should really know by now that he can't win against 'Drea" I say with a broad smile on my face as we slowly walk back to the house that has slowly become our second home. 

"Well, she might be the spitting image of her father, but otherwise she's just like you, Draco. A real little Slytherin princess."

"Yeah, but don't tell Harry!" I laugh "I want to see the look on his face when the sorting hat puts her into Slytherin."

Okay, I know Freya is just too good to be true – looks very much like Draco, which means that she's simply hot; has better results at Hogwarts than Hermione!!!; and has more children than Molly! – but come on, I really needed somebody like that. Only someone like that could take Harry away from Draco and get away with it! Do you all hate me now? looks with puppy eyes full of fear and tears :D

Now you probably understand why Draco had to be the emotional one here. I just couldn't let him end up with a wife!!! Come on, DRACO WITH A GIRL!!!! NOWAY!!! 

Thank you for reading!!!


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